


how the stars burn for you

by madandimpossible



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, TimeLady!Amy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-11
Updated: 2011-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-16 10:09:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madandimpossible/pseuds/madandimpossible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amelia Pond is a Time Lady and John Smith becomes her companion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	how the stars burn for you

**Author's Note:**

> **dedication:** to my dear, **allie** , who helped me when I was stuck and is the reason I finished  the fic in the first place. ilu. c:
> 
> So, instead of having Amy be called “The Doctor” - I just kept with 'Amelia Pond' because just writing it, it was strange to write “The Doctor” and try to see Amy in my head, and write “John Smith” and see the Doctor. :| But then I ended up doing other stuff and IDK. What is this fic?
> 
> Also, I totally ship Martha/Rory – how badass would they be, right?

*~*~*~*

 

She took a deep breath, hands splayed on the console, as the remaining regeneration energy seeped from her system. Amelia Pond blinked once. Twice. And then she was moving, rushing down the steps and into a closet – digging and digging - “Aha!” She exclaimed, holding up an old hand mirror from the 1800's.

“Oh!” She turned her head a few times, the orange hair catching the light and brushing against her face. “That's new!” She smiled widely and looked at her teeth, spent a few seconds counting the light freckles on her skin, and then trying to figure out if her eyes were brown or hazel.

Amelia Pond. Time Lady. Ginger.

“Alright, dear! Just let me get a new coat and I'll let you take us somewhere new.”

The TARDIS gave a low hum in response.

*~*~*~*

John Smith – an ordinary name for a not-so-ordinary man.

“Right, you're not going to the pub in that, mate.” Rory said, his arms crossed as his best friend did a twirl in front of the mirror.

“What's wrong with tweed?!” John smoothed the front of the new jacket.

Rory gave an exasperated sigh. “Don't you have any...normal clothes?”

“Is a stetson considered to be _normal_?” John turned around, dressed in a tweed jacket, suspenders, and a blue bow tie. Rory could understand his friend wearing these clothes to work – John worked behind a desk and had to look professional. But, but, this was just absolute madness. It was a mess that Rory wasn't sure he could fix.

John smiled and straightened his bowtie. “Is that med student going to be there?” He cocked an eyebrow at Rory, who looked away immediately at John's question.

“She's...not...I mean – I didn't ask her! So, maybe, I mean – if she goes there...I don't know...” Rory shrugged uselessly, his words circling around each other.

John took two long strides towards Rory, placing his arm around the other man's shoulders, “Listen, I talked to her and do you know what she said? She said...you were a super-mega-hottie-nurse that she would love to go out with...for...texting...and scones...”

Rory stared at John, “You are terrible at this - let's just go.”

John Smith. British. Socially Awkward.

*~*~*~*

For the next four days, if you asked John, everything was absolutely ordinary.

Until _She_ moved in the flat next to him and Rory.

She lived with Craig and Sophie and according to them, she was, “A bit strange – always asking about the bloke who lives upstairs.”

She made him start to question who lived upstairs. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how much of the world he was blind to. She – this red haired woman who he never got a proper look at – made him starting _seeing_ things.

*~*~*~*

“You could come over, we could make a date night out of it.”Craig suggested while at work.

John thought on it for a moment while he munched on his last jammy dodger. “Y-yeah” He spewed out a handful of crumbs, “Alright.” John haphazardly wiped his desk of the evidence that he was eating at work – again. “Not a _date_ , though, just two people meeting one another through mutual friends.”

Craig chuckled, “Whatever you say.”

 

*~*~*~*

John went up the steps to Craig and Sophie's flat - “Sir, excuse me, sir?” He looked up to see the silhouette of a man on the stairs. “Could you help me? It's my daughter...”

“Do you want me to phone the police?” John said, reaching for his mobile inside his tweed jacket.

“No, please – just come upstairs. I need your help.” The man sounded desperate, even if the voice gave John the creeps. John set his phone down on the table next to his friend's door, alongside the wine he had bought for the occasion. He heard that's what you do when you're invited to dinner.

“Sure, man, sure.” His footsteps creaked as he ascended the stairs.

*~*~*~*

“It's not like him to be late – and – where's Amy?” Sophie asked, the concern evident in her voice. “Dinner will get cold by the time they show up.”

“I'll call him.”

“You don't have an upstairs!” Amy shouted, emerging suddenly from her room with a rolled piece of paper in her hand.

“There you are!” Sophie exclaimed with a smile.

“What are you talking about?” Craig asked, phone still pressed to his ear.

“You. Don't. Have. An. Upstairs.” Amy said slowly – sometimes she despised explaining things and just wished someone could keep up with her. It wasn't even like what she was saying was all that difficult to understand. She waved the rolled up paper in her hand.

“No upstairs!”

That's when the three of them heard the phone ringing.

“John's here?”

Amy dropped the paper and bolted out of the flat, taking the steps two-at-a-time. “Amy!”

“God, I really need to fix this 'rubbish with wood' setting.” She growled before shoving her weight into the door.

“Amy, what are you doing?!”

“You could knock?”

“No time!” She bit out at them. “John, that's his name, yeah? – your friend – is in there! And he's in _trouble_ , please, you have to trust me!”

*~*~*~*

John dug his heels into the ground as the electricity shot out and wrapped itself around his hand. He willed himself not to look at the dried-up corpses in the corner of the room. This wasn't happening, this couldn't possibly be real – it was madness!

The door suddenly was knocked off its hinges.

“Hi Craig! A little help?” Craig ran over and grabbed John's arm, pulling him away from the – well – whatever it was.

“A new pilot has been chosen.” The two were knocked back as the machine let go of John. They stumbled over each other in a heap and landed ungracefully on the cold floor.

“No!” John's head snapped up at the sound of a female voice, her place having switched with his, only she was having a harder time escaping its grasp. “No! Not me! Not me! I'm not compatible, do you hear me?”

“How do we shut it off?!”

“Craig – listen to me.” The redhead started, her face twisted in concentration, “You can stop this.”

“Me!?”

“Yes! You! You like your life, don't you? You love Sophie. You like it here.” Amy ground her teeth in frustration, her eyes glancing over at the lanky man in tweed, who was pressing all sorts of buttons for no-damn reason and he wasn't helping but, _but_ – she wouldn't condemn him for trying.

“Craig – place you hand there. Think about all the reasons you want to stay. Think about Sophie. Or...or...Alfie! Both of them!”

“What if it doesn't work?”

“Then we're all dead.”

“Are you sure it will work?” Her hand was inches from the spherical object sending out the electricity.

“NO!” She screamed, and felt two arms wrapping around her waist, trying in vain to pull her away.

“Craig! Just do it!” The man at her side shouted.

“Geronimo!”

There was a flash and then Amy fell back into the man's chest, she scrambled to her feet and grabbed his hand, pulling him up. “Come on! Come on!” Sparks were flying, Craig had done it, and now the ship was going to have a meltdown. Brilliant.

She didn't ask his name until they were standing on the street trying to catch their breath.

*~*~*~*  
“John Smith, eh? I'm Amelia Pond.”

“I've heard about you.” He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

She nodded and gave him a brief smile – John felt his throat go dry.

*~*~*~*

“It's a lot to take in...” Sophie rubbed her eyes, “You're from another planet?” She looked over at Craig, “This isn't some strange pregnancy-induced dream, is it?”

Amy gave a quiet laugh and shook her head.

“You could stay...” Craig suggested.

“No – no – this was fun, but, I've got to go.” Amy stood and hugged them both goodbye.

She wasn't expecting to see John standing outside. “You don't exist.” He held up a folder, “Checked the public records at work, I figured you were stealing someone's identity, and I was going to call you out on it. ”

She fell into stride next to him. “And what were you gonna do, arrest me?” She winked and stopped in front of a blue telephone police box. “Or I could just step in here and arrest myself.”

“No, I was just going to ask who you were hiding from.” He rocked back on his heels, “No other reason to have a fake name...”

“I'm not hiding, John, I'm running.” She snapped her fingers.

The world slipped from beneath his feet. Amy walked in and she knew – she knew – he was going to follow her. Why, you might ask, would she wanted to take along this bizarre man with his silly bowtie and ridiculous floppy hair? Because – this ordinary man was willing to save her. He was clever enough to look her up.

She only takes the best – and John – she felt would prove to be the best.

*~*~*~*

“Bigger on the inside, Time And Relative Dimensions In Space – TARDIS. I can take us anywhere!” She leaned on the railing as John walked inside, poked his head back out the door, and stepped farther into her ship.

“It's a bit fairytale – innit?” He touched the railing on the steps, “Like something out of a storybook.”

“Don't you think all of this is a bit fairytale?” She asked, gesturing to the TARDIS.

He scoffed, “Well – no, not really, there aren't any mystical wizards or dragons...”

She smiled in that sly way of hers, “You wanna see some dragons, do you, John?”

“What?” He looked at her, baffled.

“Dragons. Wanna see some? I know a planet where - “

“Wait.” He put his hands up, “You know a planet...?”

“Time And Relative Dimensions _IN SPACE_.” She waved her hands about and John snorted with the ridiculousness of the idea. But, he was intrigued nonetheless – this woman had showed him so much in the past few hours. A time-machine-space-ship wasn't too far-fetched at this point.

“It's a spaceship too?”

“Oh yes!” Amelia grinned and he shared the smile. “Hold on to something!”

Their laughter echoed in the console room as the TARDIS vanished from London and into the stars...

*~*~*~*

It's beneath the earth that he nearly looses her. She can still recall the grip of his hands around hers, the way he slipped once and held on even tighter the second time.

“It's okay – I'm not letting go – just hold on!” He turned and yelled for them to turn the machine off. “Fight it – come on – fight it!” Amy reached out and grabbed the collar of his jacket and kicked her legs beneath the soil. His grip is so tight – it's painful.

She's not thinking about that, of course, she's thinking about that look in his eyes. That desperate, yet determined look. No one has looked at her like that in a very, very long time.

“Stay with me.”

The machine is shut down, it's rumbling noise echoing as the last parts of it slow to a stop, and John finally gets her free. He pulled her away from the hole, scooting backwards, and gasping. Amy rested her forehead on his shoulder and John gave a breathy, relieved laugh.

*~*~*~*

“Were you always 'Amelia Pond'?” He asked while they laid together in the black sands of planet Nox.

“No.” She paused, weighing her options whether or not to tell him. “I had another name...a name...soaked in the blood of a thousand galaxies. A name that burns across the Medusa Cascade. We chose our names – and I wanted to be called 'The Doctor'. I wanted to help people.”

She shut her eyes and even now she could see it all so clearly.

“My home planet, Gallifrey – it's gone. The people I take with me, I once looked back on all of them – and I was so proud – but, at the same time...I've made so many mistakes, so many choices that destroyed lives, my own planet – my own people burn because of me. I couldn't keep calling myself 'The Doctor' anymore. I had to change.”

“You want to be forgiven.” He stated.

“Don't we all?” There was the warmth of his palm on her cheek and he turned her face to his. Their noses bumped and that was the second time John Smith kissed her. There was a tang of salt on her lips as a tear escaped from her eyelashes.

*~*~*~*

She took him to an Arcade Fire concert after he's informed her they're one of his favorites.

As they move and shift their way to the front, his grip is tight around her waist as they squeeze in with all the bodies. It's hot, loud, and not her style of music but the grin on his face makes her hearts beat quicker. So every single second is worth it.

John put his arm around her shoulders and pulls her close to shout in her ear; “You're magnificent.”

*~*~*~*

“We'll just pop in and you'll grab your stuff – no more hats!” She wagged his finger in his face and he swatted it away.

“Your wardrobe has more hats than mine does! Plus, this one's cool!” He said as he put the fez on his head for the second time today.

He had waltzed out of the wardrobe with it on his head, exclaiming that he never thought he'd see another one of these. When Amelia asked what happened to his last one, he shrugged and said his best friend, Rory, chucked in front of a road sweeper.

Amelia laughed at him again, flipping another switch on the TARDIS console, “No more hats! Or I'll leave you in London.” She threatened.

He snorted, “I'd find my way back to you.”

He said it so casually that Amy's eyes jumped to his face, it was the sweetest thing to say – and to say it with such nonchalance yet, sincerity. A smile tugged at John's lips and Amy bit her lip. “Idiot.” She muttered.

The TARDIS landed in his backyard with her usual 'vwroop vwroop' noise.

John and Amy stepped out of the blue box, laughing with their fingers intertwined. John reached in his inner pocket of his jacket to find his key but, before he could slide the key into the lock – the door flew open.

“Hello!” Amelia and John greeted with wide smiles.

Rory stared at the two of them.

“Hi.”

“Just stopping by to pick up a few things, how do you like my fez? I plan to protect this one a little better.” John said as he stepped around his frozen friend and headed upstairs.

“Um...” Rory looked back and forth, from where the redhead was standing and to the stairs, “This is mental – where have you been?” He yelled up the stairs.

“Bit of traveling!” John answered back. Rory looked at Amy again, his face clearly confused. _I should have checked the date...I wonder how long he's been gone._

Amelia chuckled and slid past Rory to take a look around their flat. She picked up a vase of sunflowers and looked through the bottom up at the stems. She set the vase down and moved over to the fridge to examine the pictures. One of Craig and Sophie with a baby – oh, so then she had the baby. John wearing an astronaut helmet. She rolled her eyes at that. Rory with a dark haired woman making funny faces at the camera.

“What is going on?” Rory asked her when it seemed he had collected himself.

“I'm Amelia Pond, John and I are friends, and we've been traveling together for a bit.” Amy said with a shrug.

“Wait – you're that girl who lived with Craig and Sophie next door...” Rory scratched the back of his head, “John didn't even leave a note. We thought he was dead. You couldn't have called?”

“Oi! It doesn't work like that!” Amy snapped back, “We were busy!” _Running from aliens, going to concerts, saving the world – you know – ordinary tourist stuff._

Something clicked in Rory's head. “Oh.” Then he got this stupid little smile on his face that Amy couldn't help but find endearing. “I see.” It seemed his best friend had found a girlfriend. “Would you like to spend Christmas here?”

Amy raised her eyebrows at him.

John came down the stairs with one suitcase and a duffel bag, he set his things by the door and joined Amy and Rory in the living room/kitchen. Rory looked at John and then at Amy and he chuckled.

“What?” John and Amy exchanged a perplexed look.

“I was just asking your girlfriend if she'd like to spend Christmas with us.”

“Oh!” “No,no,no...” “We're not-” “Together.” They said, finishing each others' sentences and talking over one another.

“Right.” Rory didn't seem convinced. “So, would you like to?”

“Yeah, alright man, we'll try to make it – time is a little...wibbly...when it comes to traveling with Amy.” She laughed at that.

*~*~*~*

“Hit the red switch!” Amelia grabbed a railing for support as her body was launched to the side. The ship was hurtling towards the planet's sun – and they could redirect the course, to at least give the crew and passengers more time to get to their escape pods.

The only problem was that Amelia needed to sonic the navigation system so it would unlock to reroute the course and John needed to be the one to direct it. Poor space-ship design, that's what Amy thought, to have the navigation and the piloting system on opposite sides.

“They're both red!”

“Not the crimson red, the fire-engine red!”

He rolled his eyes. There wasn't much a difference there. He was just going to have to trust his gut and if he failed then...bye-bye spaceship and bye-bye Pond. The console sparked, alarms blaring about internal and external temperature, and the sun was getting closer by the second.

“John! Now!” The whir of her sonic screwdriver was barely audible over the chaos.

He debated telling her, you know, 'Thanks' and 'I'm so glad I met you' and 'I'll run forever, with you, mad, impossible Amelia Pond.' All those _we are close to death so let me admit my feelings now moments_. Instead, he swallowed and hit the red (hopefully the red fire-engine button).

There was a blast and the ship jolted to the left and John fell to the cold floor with a harsh thud. He heard Amy shout something to him, but his ears were ringing. He blinked, smoke surrounding the bridge and it made his eyes water and his lungs contract violently.

John got to his knees and grabbed the console, pulling himself up, seeing Amy's shadow a few feet away and the delicate glow of green from her sonic. He groped around in the smoke and heat, coughing and stumbling. “Pond?”

The ship rumbled and he fell into the wall. Were they hit by something? Did he press the wrong one? He couldn't tell. Not even the blaring bright light from the sun could be seen, so, did that mean they escaped? He didn't know. John shut his eyes for a moment as he tried to think.

“We've done it.” She was suddenly next to him, her hand wrapped around the bend of his elbow and her mouth inches from his ear. A shiver ran through his spine and he took her hand - “Lets get back to the TARDIS!”

*~*~*~*

“At least you're not wearing tweed or that dreadful bowtie.” Amy put a Santa hat on his head. They had decorated the TARDIS for Christmas, with colored lights around the railings and wreath on the center console. The ol' girl had taking a liking to it quite a lot – and she often played Christmas music quietly when they had down time.

John pulled on the collar of his blue reindeer jumper like he already missed the little accessory, “Bowties are cool.”

“You ready then?” Amy asked, her ginger hair spilling over her shoulder and catching the Christmas lights and glow of the TARDIS, making his breath catch in his throat.

“Let's hope we don't get attacked by any killer Christmas trees.” He joked with a chuckle and the look on Amy's face made him laugh even harder.

“Shut up!” She hit his shoulder.

*~*~*~*

“It's tradition, mate.” Rory nudged his shoulder and pointed towards Amy. The Time Lady was standing precariously close to the mistletoe that hung above the doorway into the living area. She was waving her hands about and giggling with Martha. No doubt, she enjoyed Martha's intelligence and go-getting attitude. John liked her quite a lot.

“But...” John scratched his cheek, “What if...she doesn't want to?”

Rory took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You honestly think she wouldn't?”

Rory smirked at the flustered look on John's face. He was the youngest-oldest man Rory had ever met. One second, he'd be going on about something-or-another he learned in college and the next he'd be jumping on his bed to test the 'springy-ness'.

John chewed on his lower lip before standing and striding over to Amy. The second he came by her side, Martha grinned at him, “Oh! Look at that, I think I'll get more wine.” She held up her empty glass as proof.

John couldn't help feel like this was a set-up.

“Hey.” He met her eyes and then looked at the floor.

“Hi.”

He looked at her and then to the ceiling. Amy followed his eyes and she smirked at him. “Really, did you have to plant that there just to plant one on me?” She winked at him. It was a really stupid and lame thing to say, she reflected later that night.

But, the feel of his lips on hers for the first time made the world stop and she could honestly care less about how silly she sounded.

*~*~*~*

Rory walked into the living room to see John sleeping in the arm chair with his legs outstretched and his torso covered in a knitted throw blanket. He clicked off the lamp so only the Christmas tree illuminated the room. “G'night...” Rory muttered looking at the pair. Amy curled up on the couch and John sprawled in their old armchair.

John woke up while it was still dark.

“Merry Christmas, Amelia.” He whispered, kissing her forehead as she slept. He rarely saw her sleep, so this in itself was a rarity. He set the palm-sized box wrapped in TARDIS blue paper on the table near her head. He brushed a strand of ginger hair away from her face, his chest aching and stomach twisting. He really shouldn't fall for her.

This impossible woman who crashes into people's lives, who burns like the sun, runs and runs and never looks back. She was dangerous.

Falling for her would be a very, very bad idea. Terrible idea, the worst, a very-not good idea.

He sighed with a small smile and sat back down in the armchair. _Oh well, too late to change anything now. I'm not going anywhere..._


End file.
